


First impressions

by jackscrutchie



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Romance, Jack Kelly is a huge dork, M/M, Tumblr inspired this i'm so sorry, he's bad at flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 12:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10786686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackscrutchie/pseuds/jackscrutchie
Summary: Jack Kelly is taken off guard by his new neighbor and makes one hell of a first impression.





	First impressions

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by an anonymous message sent to a Tumblr user ( crunchie-morris ) As soon as I saw it in the tag, I knew I wanted to write something. Sorry!

“Dammit..!” Jack knew he shouldn’t have taken a nap. He told himself, ’Don’t sit down, Jack. If you fall asleep you’ll sleep through class again.’ He’d stressed it to himself, repeated it over and over in his head as he put strokes of red paint on his canvas. Did he listen to his own advice? Of course not. Did he ever? But he promised himself it would be a short thirty minute nap. Once he woke up, he’d have three hours before class. Plenty of time to finish his painting, get cleaned up, grab a bite, get to class and relax for a bit. No problem.

Well, thirty minutes went by – And he vaguely remembered knocking his alarm clock off of the small side table, quieting it instantly. Thirty minutes quickly turned to almost three hours and now Jack was paying the price for it. He ran around the small loft snatching up shirts, quickly examining them. Three shirts smelled so foul he almost choked on the full sized granola bar he had stuffed into his mouth. They very obviously needed to be destroyed. Another shirt had a decently sized hole burned into it from that time he tried to weld something… But he didn’t talk about that. Finally he found one, covered in paint but better than the others. He threw it on over his head and struggled for a moment, tangled in it. “Dammit!”

This was his own fault. He was suffering because of his poor choice to take a nap. What wasn’t his fault though, was his sleepless night. No, he’d spent half of his night talking to his ex - girlfriend about her current partner. And boy did Katherine love to brag about Sarah. He’d planned on going to sleep after that until inspiration hit and when inspiration hit, Jack lost himself. Everything was going fine. He was on track to finish his painting when the phone rang again. It was Race this time. He’d been drinking and had somehow gotten himself lost. “Where’s Spot?” Jack had asked, reaching for his water without looking. “I thought you said you was goin’ out together?” He took a swig, but spit it right back out into the cup. Paint water. Again.

“Tha’ bastard said we’s had a date. He said it was goin’ be on Friday the 15th at five'aclock. But Jack – He stood me up!” Jack could hear him trip and sighed. “Damn… Good fer nothin’…”

Oh, for the love of – “Race the 15th is tomorrow.” Jack stood, grabbing his keys.

“Oh.. Yeah.” Race hiccuped then laughed so loud the sound cut off. “It’s tomorra!”

So it wasn’t Jack’s fault he was out the rest of the night finding Race and escorting him home. He’d had to stop a few different times for Race to vomit into the bushes, or because he insisted that he needed to chase the pigeons. He’d had a long night! It wasn’t his fault that he wanted to keep working on his painting when he finally got home. Although it was his fault that he took that nap.

He scrambled around almost falling into the wall as he struggled to get his shoes on. He had to get out the door now. At this point, being late was inevitable but maybe he’d luck out. Maybe his professor would be late as well. He could still have a chance. He grabbed his hat, his keys and was out the door.

“Thanks guys. You can just put the boxes there. I’ll take care of ‘em once everything else is in.” A sweet unfamiliar voice carried up from the floor beneath Jack. He turned to see a few men moving boxes into one of the apartments below his. Great. Hopefully this new neighbor wasn’t as loud as the previous one. Jack locked the door, set his hat on his head and spun on his heel to start down the stairs. Maybe he’d introduce himself later.

“Ain’t nothing real breakable in there so you can just toss 'em.” As Jack took the first two stairs, his eyes found the source of the voice. A short sandy blond, his hair a little rustled. His eyes were the most perfect shade of green and were shaded by brilliantly long lashes. Jack was hypnotized by them and the spray of freckles that covered his cheeks and nose… He wondered how many there were. Then the boy smiled, Jack’s foot missed the next step and he tumbled down the remaining 6 concrete stairs.

What just happened? He must have blacked out, because the next thing he knew the beautiful boy was crouched next to him, worry twisted into that lovely face. Jack squeezed his eyes shut for a second and opened them again, trying to make his world stop spinning. His hat was gone and his entire body ached. Was he dreaming?

“Hey! Look at me!” The boy’s voice was musical. Jack’s eyes met his. “Are you okay?”

“I’m Jack.” Jack sputtered, pink slowly creeping onto his own cheeks. “I mean, my name’s oka – I mean,” he sighed, already embarrassed enough. “I’m Jack, and I’m okay.”

The blond smiled again and Jack’s heart skipped a beat. No wonder he had fallen down the stairs. That smile took his breath away. “Oh thank goodness.”

“Yeah, I’m Jac – I’m okay.” Jack pushed himself up, his hands and forearms were scraped up, little beads of blood speckling them.

He giggled, shaking his head a bit. “It’s nice to uh, meet you Jack. Or is it 'okay?’” He raised a brow, questioning. He was being teased by this beautiful boy and all Jack wanted was for him to laugh again. That alone was enough to make him stop hurting.

He grinned in response and shrugged his shoulders. “Jack is what my friends call me.”

“Well Jack,” his name sounded so lovely coming from that mouth. “I’m Andrew – But my friends call me Crutchie. You’re lucky you aren’t a whole lot more hurt than you are.”

Crutchie? What an odd nickname. Jack sat for a moment, trying to piece together why he might have a name like – Oh. His eyes quickly lingered on the pair of forearm crutches that were on the ground next to him. “Yeah well… I got a thick skull.” He looked back into those eyes and smiled wide. “And I was lucky enough to have this nice guy around to take care of me.” He fought the urge to wink. This close, Jack could take special notice of just how long and lovely those eyelashes were. He could make out constellations in his freckles. He could see color coming up behind them to stain his cheeks pink. And oh God, that smile. Those eyes.

“Guess you were.” He cocked his head to the side and reached to the side to grab the hat that had fallen off of Jack’s head. “Where were you goin’ in such a hurry, huh?” Crutchie smiled and shoved the hat gently back onto Jack’s head, sideways.

To hell with it. He’d already missed the first 10 minutes of class. Who needed it? “Actually,” he stood, carefully. It was obvious to him he’d feel all of that in the morning but damn would it be worth it. “I was just on my way to grab some coffee.” He fixed his hat and smiled, reaching down to offer the boy his hand. “You uh – Care to join me?”

The world brightened again as another smile flashed on his face as he took Jack’s hand in his own. “I’d love to.”


End file.
